Trap

A Short Story

On the first day in her new house, eight year old Lucy explored her room. In it she discovered a mouse hole. She knelt down and pressed her eye against it, but her face blocked any light that would have revealed the inside. When she pressed her ear against it, she heard squeaking. She spent the afternoon unpacking the cardboard boxes marked “L”  that her father had carried up to her room. She unpacked her alarm clock, stacked the bookshelf with dog-eared paperbacks and propped her favourite teddy bear against her pillow. There were still no signs of any mouse. Going to bed, she thought maybe she’d imagined the squeaking.  

On the second day, she played outside in the new garden. It was bigger than the one at her old house. The trees were overgrown and riddled with spindly house spiders. After dinner, Lucy opened the fridge when her parents weren’t looking and broke off the corner of a block of strong cheddar. She placed it at the mouth of the hole. The third day she buttoned her school shirt with nimble fingers, smiling at the cheese crumbs scattered on the floor. The biggest chunk of the cheese had vanished. During classes she imagined a tiny furry creature jumping on her bed and flicking through her sticker books with its little paws while she added and subtracted numbers. 

On the fourth day, Lucy poked at the mouse-trap her father had put down with a pencil and watched it snap in two. He’d hoovered up the remains of the cheese, scolding her for encouraging vermin and insects. She spent the night with her eyes fixed on the mouse hole, straining to spot any sign of movement. On the fifth day she scowled down at the replacement trap and covered the hole with a heavy book before school. She’d leave it there just for the day. If the mouse couldn’t come out it couldn’t be hurt by her father’s traps. That evening Lucy fell ill and spent the week in hospital. In her fever she forgot all about the mouse and the book she’d blocked its hole with. It was only in the car going home that Lucy remembered. After her mother had tucked her into bed, she climbed right back out and uncovered the hole. She pressed her eye against it and then her ear. There wasn’t a sound but there was a strange smell. Wrinkling her nose, she wiggled her finger into the hole and touched something. Stretching, she snagged her prize and pulled out a tiny decaying rodent. One month after Lucy moved into her new house, the hole was plastered over.